Nights Without You
by Eve Random
Summary: Filled for the 2015 BrittanaCon PROMPT: Brittany left to go on tour with [pick a singer] 2 months after they were married & is finally back home. Santana shows her how much she's missed her. PROMPTED BY: fbedit19


**Part One**

"Brittany," Santana sounded exasperated even through the phone, "I just can't right now. I have to get ready for mid-terms."

Brittany frowned as she turned back to the center of the room with the phone pressed to one ear, her finger in the other. The dance floor had been taken over by the other tour dancers and they sauntered and shimmied to the throbbing bass-heavy music; either being admired or hated by everyone else in the club. Brittany waved and then turned back to focus on the phone.

"I know," Brittany replied. "I was just hoping you could make it for the last night. I mean, it's Vegas and we're going to do our last show and a special thing with JLo at Planet Hollywood, and, I know, Tubbington _hates_ JLo, but you _love_ 'Da 'Riginal 'Rican' so..." Brittany took a breath, "So it's a going to be an amazing night and a pretty big deal and I'm pretty sure I can get you backstage. I was figuring we could talk to her about voting rights in Puerto Rico. Statehood is definitely not required, I was re-reading the Constitution and-"

"I can't. Brittany, I just," Santana's voice trailed off, "I have too much to get done. Besides, the last night of the tour with you guys is insane. You relive the entire tour and all your inside jokes and dance half naked, if not naked, and then there's the tour tattoo and…"

Brittany's fingers moved to the small patch of plastic wrap protecting the inside of her arm. She could feel the heat from the new tattoo, which marched down the inside curve of her bicep, inline with the other ink memorabilia. "We got the tattoos tonight, and everyone is flying out after the wrap party tomorrow so it'd just be us for most of the night…"

"Britt…"

"I know. I just…yeah, it's okay," Brittany sighed. "I'll see you day after tomorrow, right?" Brittany twirled her wedding band with her thumb.

"Absolutely," Santana answered. "I'll be in cell phone parking so don't call until you have your luggage and you're 5 minutes from the curb, okay?"

"Okay." Brittany sighed aloud before she could catch herself.

"Brittany?"

"Yes?"

"I love you. I can't wait to see you, Mrs. Lopez," said Santana.

"I love you so much, Santana. I can't wait to see you, Mrs. Pierce," Brittany replied. She heard the beep of the phone disconnecting. Looking up, she saw Haley, alcohol fueled-grin spread across her face, grab her arm and pull her back out to the dance floor.

* * *

Brittany smirked as she sipped a cocktail that glowed fluorescent under the black light of the club's backroom. For Brittany, the wrap party was a mix of nostalgia and a desire to move on, but for some of the dancers it was the biggest party of the year. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Haley approaching, her thick jet-black hair pulled into a ponytail atop her head.

"Last night, last Insta for the tour," she said, putting her arm around Brittany, and raising her phone a few degrees above them.

The sight of Haley sticking her tongue out and crossing her eyes on the phone's screen made Brittany choke on the cocktail she'd yet to swallow.

"Perfect!" Haley laughed as she examined the picture.

"Perfect?!" Brittany said as she wiped her chin with a napkin and glanced at the picture. "It looks like I'm hurling!"

"Yeah," Haley said shaking her head, "Wifey is not gonna like the thought of you getting wasted out on the road...first comes drinking…then comes striiiiiiipiiiing…" Haley let her finger hover alternately over the 'post' and 'cancel' buttons. "What _is_ a friend to do..."

"Haley!" Brittany yelled as she snatched at the phone. She deleted the picture and put her arm around Haley, who adjusted the dark curls of her ponytail to partially obscure her face. Brittany pulled a piece of her blonde hair across her lip and adjusted her new moustache above a curled lip snarl. Both girls crossed their eyes and stuck out their tongues.

Brittany examined the picture and handed the phone back. " _That's_ perfection."

Haley smiled as she posted the picture. "Even Santana can't get mad about that one." Haley saw the shift in Brittany's expression. "How's married life? Anxious to get back?"

"It's good." Brittany smiled weakly, her thumb worrying her wedding band. "I just miss her, is all. Sometimes I feel like I miss her more than she misses me."

"Are we talking about the same Santana who calls you every night and Skypes you every morning?!" Haley said, raising her eyebrows.

Brittany smiled shyly. "I wanted her to fly out to see us tonight and she wouldn't..."

"Wouldn't or couldn't? I can say a lot of things about Diabla Lopez, but it's been clear since day one that she loves you," Haley said, hipchecking Brittany as they leaned over the railing to watch the dance floor below where the piggyback jousting competition was beginning with loud whooping. Brittany smiled. "Besides, the tour is crazy and I can totally see her not wanting to have to share you with this bunch of freaks."

"I know," Brittany said, "but it's like Lord Tubbington always says, 'a pig with a boot for a pipe is...'"

"Excuse me," a hand tapped Brittany on the shoulder. Brittany and Haley turned to see a man holding a white envelope in his hand. "Are you..." he glanced at the envelope, "Mrs. Brittany Pierce-Lopez?"

Brittany nodded.

"I've been looking for you for the last 10 minutes," he sighed. "This would be for you," the man handed Brittany the envelope and turned to leave.

Brittany looked quizzically at her name printed on the envelope, then at Haley, before turning it over and opening it. Inside was a hotel keycard. "Dude, you are so totally anteater-ing at the wrong anthill!" Brittany yelled out to the retreating man.

Haley reached for the keycard and turned it over, "Brittany..." she said, nudging her arm. On the other side of the card was a stickie note with a four-digit number, "1AM," and a large 'S'.

"Santana?"

"Is it her handwriting?"

"Yeah, but..." Brittany looked up, grinning, and glanced around the room. "Is she here?"

They scanned the room several times, both failing to catch any sign of Santana.

"It's a Venetian keycard," Haley said, inspecting the keycard.

"She's here! In town!" Brittany beamed. "What time is it?!"

Haley illuminated her phone and held it up. By the time Haley glanced at her phone and back, Brittany was gone. "Run, Brittany, run," she laughed to herself as she reached for Brittany's unfinished drink and turned back to watch the dance floor.

* * *

As the elevator counted up to 44, Brittany fanned herself and smoothed the skirt of her floral smock dress. Leaning over to adjust her thigh-high socks, she caught a glimpse of the huge grin on her face in the mirror. She laughed aloud as she watched the few remaining floors tick past until the elevator finally stopped and the doors opened. Brittany stepped out into the hallway, glanced at the room number on the keycard again, squealed, and sprinted down the hall.

Brittany stopped in front of the room door and took a deep breath while proceeding quickly through a series of stretches beginning with her arms. As she extended her leg to place her left heel gently against the upper frame of the door, she leaned in, stretching. A woman exited from the room across the hall, startled to see anyone, let alone someone in this position.

"Help! I'm stuck!" Brittany stage whispered.

The woman hesitated, looking puzzled, but took a step towards Brittany.

Brittany jumped and pulled her leg down, grinning. "Just kidding! Loosening up. Wifey is in there," Brittany said, winking before turning to knock on the door. The woman didn't speak and moved quickly down the hall. "Thank you, though!" Brittany shouted after her.

When she turned back to the door, it was now slightly ajar. Brittany pushed the door open to reveal a candlelit room with a floor to ceiling window overlooking Las Vegas' legendary neon billboard-filled Strip. A dark figure moved quickly to stand in front the windows. The bright lights below outlined a petite curvy silhouette. Brittany hesitated, still smiling as she squinted into the room.

"Santana…is that you…or a really sexy psycho?"

"It's me," Santana replied. "Close the door and come in."

"Thaaaat's just what a really sexy psycho would say…but also what Santana would say…"

Santana chuckled as she rolled her eyes. She felt in the pocket of her black satin robe and pulled out a small remote for the LED tea lights she'd placed in a wide circle at her feet. She picked one up, held it beneath her chin, and with an audible click, turned the rest of the candles on, illuminating her smirking face.

"Surprise, ba-" Santana began, feeling the air rush out of her as she found herself swiftly pressed between the length of Brittany's body and the window behind her. Her eyes flickered closed as her nerve endings blazed with the smell of Brittany's hair, the smoothness of her lips, and the sweet taste of Brittany's mouth on her tongue. She sighed softly as Brittany's hands framed her face, her thumbs behind Santana's ears. She smiled as her fingers found Brittany's waist, thumbs hooking the angled jut of her hipbones through her dress, fingertips tracing either side of Brittany's hip. Brittany ran her hands down the length of Santana's arms, entwining her fingers between Santana's at their sides.

"Hi, Santana…"Brittany whispered as she extended both their hands overhead, pressing them firmly, resolutely, against the window. Santana's robe fell open revealing that she was wearing nothing underneath. Brittany felt as though she'd been punched in the chest as she sighed, taking in the sight of her wife, finally in front of her, naked. Santana smirked and moved to pull Brittany into her again, but she gently resisted. Maintaining their arms overhead, she dragged her eyes slowly down Santana's body; a jolt of desire firing from Brittany's darkening blues down Santana's spine in response.

Before Santana could form the words of protest tittering on the tip of her tongue, Brittany's mouth, teeth, and tongue crashed down on her neck. Each kiss, nip, bite, and flick, seared Santana's flesh. "Uh uh," tumbled out of Santana's mouth, replacing whatever words she had intended next, as she yielded to Brittany's ravenous mouth. Santana's impatient hands fumbled at the zipper to Brittany's dress, which after a few tugs relinquished its hold and allowed Brittany's dress to puddle at their feet.

"I have the most beautiful, most incredibly sexy wife in the world," Santana said, taking in Brittany's sinuously muscled stomach and legs, now only clad in her thigh hi socks and men's cut briefs.

"Can't be true," Brittany replied, shedding the remaining clothing and pressing into Santana's body, "because I do." Brittany fit her body perfectly against Santana's, placing her hands on either side of her face. She kissed her deeply, making plain with her lips and tongue the want that she was barely containing. With a soft whimper, Santana moved to guide them towards the bed. Again, Brittany gently resisted moving, gliding her hands down Santana's caramel-colored chest. A firm squeeze elicited another whimper from Santana's lips.

"Here?" Santana mumbled breathily into the skin behind Brittany's ear. Brittany nodded. "My way, then," Santana replied, pirouetting to push her wife to take her place, back against the window. Santana paused to admire the sight of Brittany with the lights of Las Vegas dancing around her naked body. As she trailed the graceful curves of Brittany's neck and collarbone, the translation of her actions became clear. Nips made moans, teeth made groans, and the slightest suction of skin rewarded Santana with a breathy gasp. Brittany's hands twisted into raven locks and clasped at her back as Santana's mouth caught the pink hardness of Brittany's nipples between her lips. Santana alternately tweaked with her teeth and soothed with her tongue causing Brittany's back to arch in search of more contact, more agonizing pleasure. The pale skin stretched across Brittany's side did little to conceal the ribs underneath and Santana was compelled to sample the delicate flesh there. Teeth first, Santana addressed each rib. Brittany squealed with the first bite, but whimpered when Santana returned, rib by rib, with gentle pressure that promised to leave tell tale marks.

"Fuck," Brittany gasped from the incredible torture of Santana's mouth on her side and frowned at her inability to reciprocate.

Santana's mouth and teeth spotted hot pink prints across Brittany's flat belly as she kneeled; her hands kneading firmly at Brittany's hips and the back of her thighs. Before Santana could take inventory of her progress, Brittany suddenly slipped downwards and pulled Santana to standing. The sharp pleasure of Brittany's teeth on her nipple instantly blanked Santana's consciousness. "Aah ah ah," Santana babbled. As her breath hitched, she reached out for the window to catch herself. Brittany's mouth easily plucked the nerves that seem to run from Santana's breasts directly to the insistent throb between her legs.

Santana's elbows threatened to buckle as Brittany's fingers slid between her lips, pressing firmly on either side of her pulsing center. Brittany's fingers met with no friction, sliding slickly, and eliciting a low groan. Brittany audibly gasped at the evidence of Santana's arousal, realizing that only her lips, tongue, and teeth could make purchase here. The first glancing touch of Brittany's mouth caused Santana's hips to thrust, insistently pleading for more. The slightest flick of Brittany's tongue sent a shiver racing up Santana's spine resulting in a half-moan half-growl. An intoxicating buzz surged through Santana's body as she found herself unable to resist grinding against Brittany's mouth, moaning loudly and squeezing her eyes closed tightly.

When Brittany paused slightly, kissing the inside of her thigh, Santana quickly pulled her upwards until they faced each other. Their mouths crashed into each other again, the taste of Santana's wetness familiar to its owner's tongue. Santana's fingers slid easily into Brittany's center accompanied by a keening moan. Flattening her hand between Brittany's legs, her fingers inside, Santana leaned forward against the back of her own hand, and began to thrust. The smacking sound of Santana's body pounding between her legs, the motion of Santana's palm rubbing against her slick sex, and the curling of Santana's fingers inside her, reduced Brittany to a writhing, whimpering, bundle of nerve endings firing all at once. Santana increased her tempo her own sex roughly tweaked by her thrusting motion. Brittany tongued the pulse behind Santana's ear that hammered through skin now perfectly salted with the sweat of their joint exertion.

Brittany's whimpers increased in pitch as Santana's rhythm became more frantic. When Santana lowered her head to once again feel the hardened texture of Brittany's nipples on her tongue, she felt every sinew in Brittany's body twitch abruptly against her, and heard a sharp intake of air that signaled Brittany's release. The sound of Brittany moaning between gasps of air, the bucking of her hips against Santana, and the spasmodic contractions around her fingers, combined to push Santana to a brief moment of weightlessness before the free fall of her own orgasm began. Her arms gave out and they barely managed to catch themselves before crashing to floor.

Lying side by side, covered in a sheen of perspiration, they panted raggedly for several minutes as the coordinated use of their brains, mouths and limbs slowly returned. Santana stretched to grasp the edge of her discarded robe, pulling it over the two of them. With a contented sigh, Brittany pulled Santana into her, an arm around Santana's waist, a possessive leg over her. Nuzzling her face into Santana's neck, Brittany drifted off to sleep. Santana stayed awake long enough to feel the smile playing across Brittany's lips on her neck before she too drifted off.

* * *

 **Part Two**

"So you're saying you thought I didn't miss you?" Santana asked as she stuffed another piece of a Monte Carlo sandwich into her mouth before tying her hair into a high ponytail. They'd missed breakfast and lunch in successive rounds of lovemaking and cat napping. Although Santana really wanted french toast, at 7PM, when they finally had to concede to other desires, the powdered sugar-covered ham and cheese sandwich was as close as she could get.

Brittany paused devouring a large pile of sweet potato fries to catch the syrup running down Santana's arm with her tongue. She smiled mischievously. "No," she said continuing to chew, "I said, it felt like you didn't miss _me_ as much as I missed _you_." Brittany shrugged. "It's no big deal. I know you love me..."

Santana put her sandwich down, raising her eyebrow. "You _better_ know that. After all we've been through to get here? After-"

"I have no doubts about your love, quireda. I just feel like it's easier to be safe at home every night…watching your novellas…in your onesie pajamas…eating your chicharrones… Most nights I'm sharing a tour bus bathroom or worse, a plane bathroom, with a dozen other people…Tubbington's litter box is better..." Brittany trailed off.

"Being on the road with all your...dance besties is harder than being at home…alone?"

"That's not what I'm saying at all, Santana. It gets lonely for me at night too- a dozen 'dance besties' don't substitute for you." She ran a finger across Santana's arm, hoping it would defuse the situation a little, but Santana's jaw clenched, and Brittany knew it hadn't helped.

Santana sat up straight and pulled her robe tighter around her. "You know, it's much easier for the one who goes away. You have new and exciting places to keep you distracted." Brittany frowned and opened her mouth to reply, but Santana continued. "You feel lonely at night? How about I feel lonely _all day_. I've got to make myself wash the sheets as soon as you leave so the smell of you on our pillows doesn't make me want to wallow in bed all day." Santana stood now, pacing. "I have to walk past "our coffee place" and "our dream apartment" and "our dream duck pond" everyday. Everything in "our world" reminds me of you. I don't have a choice!" Tears welled in Santana's eyes.

Brittany reached out to pull Santana to her, but Santana shrugged her off and strode quickly into the bathroom, closing the door shut behind her. Brittany stood, taking a step towards the bathroom door but quickly sat back down. Despite the fact that she wanted to bang on the door between them and make Santana let her in, she knew too well that was like throwing gas on a fire. Her bottom lip trembled as a tear rolled down her cheek and she waited.

After a few minutes, Brittany pushed the food on the table away from her and plopped on the edge of the bed, frowning. She faced the bathroom door for a few moments before flopping onto her back and turning instead towards the floor to ceiling mirrored closet opposite the bed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the bathroom door open. She watched, not moving.

Santana stepped out of the bathroom and glanced first at the chair where Brittany had been sitting and then the bed. Without saying a word, Santana moved to the side of the bed facing the mirror. Brittany sat up, her legs hanging off the edge of the bed, and extended her arms to her. Instead of facing her, Santana sat down between Brittany's legs, facing the mirror and wrapped Brittany's arms around her like a blanket. For a moment they both closed their eyes and said nothing. Santana's fingers moved to twist the wedding band on Brittany's finger.

Santana's voice was small and low as she spoke. "Nights without you are the worst," she said, holding Brittany's gaze in the mirror. "It sucks." She shrugged and wiped at a tear. "The rest of the city is cuddling up, and having sexy time, and falling asleep with their person..." she paused, catching Brittany's gaze again, "and I have to try to remember where in the world you even are and if it's day or night for you…too early or too late to call you..."

Brittany's blue eyes watered, she sighed, pushed Santana's dark ponytail out of her way and kissed her shoulder. "I'm thinking the same thing, Santana," Brittany said softly.

"And I miss you so much, I miss _us_ so much," Santana said, still addressing Brittany's reflection. "And I miss getting to be just me. I don't get to be just me when you're not there."

Brittany pulled Santana back against her so tight she could barely inhale, but it felt good. Santana felt herself melt into the embrace.

After a few moments, Santana tugged at Brittany's left arm. "Let me see the new one," she said, turning sideways to look at the inside of Brittany's arm. She ran her finger down a row of postage stamp-sized tattoos of a panda, a thumbtack, a boxing glove, a ruler- an odd collection of symbols usually linked to the biggest prank or screw-up from each tour. The newest one was a yellow fedora.

"Oh!" Brittany started, "I had a dream I was a detective and there was a serial killer on the loose and…"

"Can I hear about it tomorrow?" Santana said sheepishly. "Can I hear everything about the tour…tomorrow?"

Brittany smiled and hugged her in reply.

"Can I see mine now?"

Brittany's smile spread into a wide grin. She nodded.

Santana kneeled on the floor in front of the bed. She smiled up at Brittany as she gently removed and discarded Brittany's grey t-shirt. Her eyes immediately moved to the red oval tattoo that balanced on the edge of Brittany's hipbone. Santana smiled at the concentric swirls of the tattoo and then fitted her thumb into its own image; her fingertips playing the softness of Brittany's skin with the hardness of the muscles beneath. Brittany smiled, sitting up on her elbow, reaching one hand to touch her own red thumbprint behind Santana's ear.

"Every night before I fell asleep I would imagine kissing you right here," Santana said, holding Brittany's gaze while bending her head to kiss the thumbprint.

"And where else?" Brittany giggled, wiggling her eyebrows.

Santana stood up between her legs, Brittany still seated on the edge of the bed, and kissed her.

"Do you really want to know what I did at night while you were away?"

"Yeah," Brittany replied, smiling. Santana smirked, turned back towards the mirror, and dropped her robe. Brittany's smile melted.

Santana sat on the edge of the bed, still facing the mirror. "I'll show you." She pulled her hair tie out, shook her dark mane, and leaned back against Brittany. Santana addressed Brittany's reflection, "I'd try to imagine me naked…lying back against you…also naked…" Santana pushed further back, keeping her eyes fixed on Brittany's. Santana lifted her right leg and moved it to rest upon Brittany's right leg. Brittany shifted her hand to touch the inside of Santana's thigh, but Santana batted it away.

"And I'd think about how I'd want to show you how bad I missed you, how bad I wanted you," Santana said as she lifted her left leg to drape across Brittany's left leg.

Brittany's mouth fell open in awe of Santana's reflection. Santana's smiled coyly, enjoying the look on Brittany's face. Brittany swallowed and her hand drifted to touch Santana's tan legs. Again, Santana swatted it away. Brittany leaned, her lips inches from Santana's shoulder, her eyes locked with Santana's in their reflection, and whispered, "You are so beautiful, Santana." Santana smiled.

"I'd think about you touching me. Touching my arms, my breasts," as she spoke she took Brittany's hands and ran them over her arms, then her breasts. Brittany sighed as Santana squeezed her hands around her firm full breasts. "Squeezing me." Santana slid Brittany's hands lower. Brittany watched intently in the mirror as her pale fingers dragged downward against the tan flesh of Santana's torso.

Again Brittany whispered into Santana's shoulder, "So sexy, baby." Her eyes moved from Santana's body in the mirror, back up to her warm brown eyes.

"I'd imagine your hands all over me," Santana said, pulling Brittany's hands across the outside of her spread thighs to the inside. "And then I'd imagine you feeling exactly how much I needed you." Santana gasped quietly as she slid Brittany's index finger inside her. Brittany's eyes snapped shut and she licked her lips as she felt Santana guiding her hand languidly through her wetness.

Brittany opened her eyes, catching a glimpse of her fingers sliding in and out of Santana. "Fuck, baby!" she whimpered, burying her face in Santana's hair.

"In my head," Santana said, the ragged edge to her voice betraying her dispassionate storytelling, "it would feel so good to feel you stroking so slowly inside me. And I would get so close…" Santana waited until Brittany looked up again, "so close, baby."

Brittany groaned.

"And I'd think about how I could feel myself almost there," Santana continued. "And how I'd want more of you," she said, pressing Brittany's long slender middle finger inside her. "I'd teeter right on the edge, wanting to fall off so bad I'd grind myself against you, riding your fingers."

Brittany watched hypnotized as Santana moved. The moan she coaxed from Santana when she curled her fingers made her bite her lip.

"But it just didn't work," Santana said, exhaling, and sliding Brittany's hand away.

"What?!"

Santana shrugged, "Well, I mean…sometimes it worked, but mostly it just made me so horny to really be touched by you."

Brittany slowly brought her lips into contact with Santana's shoulder. "Let me," Brittany whispered. Santana raised her eyebrow as she watched Brittany in the mirror, her hands again palming, squeezing her breasts. "Let me touch you."

"Yes, baby," Santana whispered. She freed herself from Brittany's grasp, sat in her lap, facing her, and wrapped her legs around Brittany's torso. Brittany pulled her close, helping her maintain her balance, their foreheads pressed together. Brittany's hands ran up and down the length of Santana's lean thighs. "Touch me," Santana whispered.

Brittany whimpered and without hesitation slid her fingers back inside Santana. She felt Santana's long eyelashes flutter against her face as their bodies rocked slowly back and forth. Santana clutched at Brittany's back as her fingers twisted and curled inside. Her quickening panting felt warm against Brittany's cheek. Brittany moaned loudly at the sight of them in the mirror, Santana's ass flexing in time with their rhythm, slow and steady.

Santana snaked her hand between them, her fingers instinctively finding the pressure and pace Brittany's dripping clit needed. She felt Brittany's hand clasp the back of her neck and they opened their eyes, an electric connection that caused them both to convulse. Santana threw her head back, moaning as their bodies shuddered in unison.

Brittany's legs trembled as she held them upright, their rocking now slower and offbeat. Ever graceful, Brittany aimed them sideways to fall on the bed; Santana's legs remained locked around Brittany's waist. For a few moments, they said nothing, soft kisses and tracing fingertips their only communication.

They slowly shifted to face the window, watching the chaotic flicker of lights on The Strip. Santana took Brittany's left hand in hers, their rings clicking against each other. "I love you, Mrs. Lopez."

"I love you, Mrs. Pierce."

"Vegas is nice," Santana said, eyes still on the dancing neon, "but I'm ready to get you back home."

"Me, too," Brittany said, turning her head to kiss her wife.

* * *

 **A/N: Many thanks to fbedit for the awesome prompt! Thanks to the awesome organizers of BrittanaCon 2014 and 2015, you ladies rock!**

 **Many many thanks to the Bajan lady who puts up with me and betas.**


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